


Drunk

by aloevera



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-01-05
Packaged: 2019-02-28 18:46:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13277658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aloevera/pseuds/aloevera
Summary: "Clearly you've never experienced silk sheets properly, then."





	Drunk

It should come as no surprise that every member of the Enterprise crew has a love/hate relationship with shore leave. Each time the ship is docked at a Starbase or Jim even dares to utter the words and heighten the hopes of a crew desperate for a moment of peace, it seems as if all hell breaks loose.

There were minor incidents such as a distress signal that needed checking or a phenomenon that needed to be recorded and, while they were inconvenient and pulled the crew away from a well-deserved break, they were easily dealt with and (usually) posed no significant risk. Other times, however, the incidents were so major that you were left battered, bruised, and happy to be alive.

Regardless, the crew always anticipate shore leave just as happily and hopefully as they did the very first time. They hope that this time, just this once, it will go off without a hitch and, as much as you hate to admit it, the hope is a little contagious.

“Hana,” you sigh as you tried to read through a PADD containing the last of the patient files for the day, “while I appreciate your optimism for shore leave, we still have an hour left of our shift. The faster you finish those files, the faster we can get out of here.”

“Oh, come on, Doc!” she laughs as she takes a seat in the chair across from your desk, “Aren’t you just a little excited for shore leave? Time to go get drunk and make mistakes!” She laughs at the side eye and noise of contempt you share as she leans back in the chair. “Come on, you and Doctor McCoy could finally get rid of all that sexual tension brewing between the two of you.”

Hana is positively delighted at the choking noise that leaves you and takes that as her cue to leave. It’s only when she’s disappearing back into the harsh white lights of MedBay that you can yell, “There’s no sexual tension!,” and you hope that it goes unnoticed by everyone else.

But, of course, you have no such luck.

“That’s good to know, Doc,” Jim hums cheerfully as he steps through the door of your office and you want nothing more than for one of those major incidents, particularly one that involves the ship opening up and swallowing you whole, to occur in that moment.

“Shut up, Jim,” you huff after a moment of agitated silence, “what do you want?”

“I just came to see how my favorite doctor was doing this fine afternoon,” he begins as he settles into the chair Hana had just vacated.

“I wouldn’t know. I haven’t seen Doctor McCoy lately,” you inform him as you return your gaze to your PADD.

Jim fixes you with a look before he shakes his head and grins. “I meant you, doc,” he laughs, “if I wanted to see Bones, I’d be making more noise.”

It’s your turn to fix him with a look as you forget the PADD and focus your attention on Jim. “Okay,” you sigh, “I’ll bite. I’m doing great, Jim. How are you?”

“Fantastic,” he returns with a grin, “looking forward to shore leave just as much as anyone else. What are your plans for tonight?”

“I’m going to get a drink, make sure no one on my staff needs a new liver, and then go sleep for the rest of the shore leave,” you inform him with a shrug, “nothing too exciting.” Jim nods and you can’t help the rising suspicion you feel. “Why?” you question.

“Just wondering, is all,” he hums lightly, “I’m the captain, it’s my job to know these things.”

You don’t exactly buy it but you let it go as you watch him stand from the chair. “Jim,” you call as he makes his way out of your office, “if this is part of one of your brilliant ideas…”

“Don’t worry,” he tries to assure you, although you’re almost more nervous than before, “no brilliant plans here. Not today.”

And, just like that, he’s gone and you’re beginning to think that you should forego shore leave and stay firmly planted on the ship.

But Hana, as excited as she is, won’t hear it.

“You don’t have to sleep with Doctor McCoy,” she laughs as she links her arm with yours, “I was just kidding. But you do have to come out and have some fun! You’ve been working non-stop. It’ll be great, I promise.”

You don’t get a chance to argue as Christine joins the two of you on your trek back to your quarters. “You can’t sit this one out,” she agrees with Hana, “you have to come and enjoy yourself. If only for my sake. Although, a certain grumpy southern doctor did wonder if you’d be joining us tonight.”

It takes all your strength not to roll your eyes at Christine’s teasing tone. “Sure, Chris,” you sigh. “Fine, I’ll come but I want you guys to drop the McCoy thing. Leonard and I are just colleagues, nothing more. And we aren’t sleeping together tonight.”

“Sure,” Hana nods and Christine is quick to follow. “Just colleagues, got it,” she answers brightly before she adds quietly, “colleagues who are desperate to get into one another’s pants.”

The teasing doesn’t stop as you make your way to your shore leave accommodations and then to Hana’s room to get ready for the night out. The girls theorize about how Leonard would be in bed (“He’s pretty gruff and not exactly the most gentle person in the world,” Hana points out, “I bet he’d be into manhandling you.”) and about how long the two of you have been dancing around your feelings (“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him as quiet as he was on your first day,” Christine informs you).

It’s a little annoying and you’re thankful for the burn of alcohol and the distraction the bar offers as you seat yourself in front of the bartender.

However, your bubble of solitude is fleeting as Jim Kirk seats himself at your side.

“Doc,” he grins as he motions for the bartender, “let me buy you a drink. Enjoying your night?”

Jim doesn’t expect the stare you fix him with. “You’re nice to me sometimes,” you concede with a look, “but never this nice. What’s up, Jim? And I want the truth.”

“What?” he laughs, feigning confusion, “I can’t be nice to the doctor who has tamed the great Georgian beast known as Bones?”

“What the hell are you talking about, Jim?” you question before you sip the drink Jim ordered for you. “And don’t give me some vague answer.”

Jim hesitates for a moment before he turns to face you fully. “Haven’t you noticed a difference in Bones lately?” he questions. “Haven’t you seen a change in him?”

“I just figured he was working on his new year’s resolution of not being an ass,” you shrug before you add, “but, I mean, I guess.”

“It’s not a new year’s resolution if it’s June,” Jim points out, “it’s a lifestyle change. Anyway, haven’t you questioned what set him at ease, took some of the bitter edge off?”

“I figured he was seeing someone,” you answer honestly, “or, I don’t know, I haven’t seen you in MedBay recently. I thought that might have something to do with it.”

“I resent that,” Jim huffs, “but that’s not what’s important. What’s important is that Leonard McCoy is interested in you in a, and I quote, “non-professional manner.””

You can’t help the giggle that spills past your lips and you shake your head at Jim’s scoff. “Sorry,” you laugh, “not laughing at the revelation of Leonard’s love for me, just the phrasing. “Non-professional manner,” huh?”

“Listen,” Jim sighs, “don’t give him too much of a hard time. It took all I had, including a promise to check in weekly and report any and all injuries directly to Bones to get him to admit that much. It’s up to you to get the rest of the admission.”

“And who says I have any non-professional interested in Leonard?” you question with a raised brow.

Jim snorts and shakes his head. “It’s so obvious that even Spock can see it,” he informs you, “you have a habit of checking out his ass whenever he’s near.”

Jim can’t stop his laughter at your facial expression. It’s a mixture of shock and chagrin but before you can defend yourself, Jim continues. “Bones looks, too,” he assures you, “and we’re all tired of the tension. Get drunk, sleep together, and become the most insufferable couple aboard the Starship Enterprise.”

“Is that an order, Captain?” you deadpan and Jim, with a shit-eating grin, nods his head.

“Yes, doctor, I believe it is.”

It’s hard to control the malice in your gaze as they follow his retreating form. You’re weighing the pros and cons of tossing a glass at his head (pro: he won’t cause any trouble while he’s unconscious, con: loss of job, loss of respect, loss of dignity) when a new body takes Jim’s place beside you.

“You don’t have to get physical to kill him,” Leonard informs you with a terribly hidden grin, “he’s allergic to damn near everything. One seemingly harmless hypo and he’s out.”

“Is that really information you should be handing out so freely, doctor?” you question with a small grin of your own. “It could be dangerous in enemy hands.”

Leonard scoffs and shakes his head. “Jim’s in danger just by existing,” he sighs before he takes a sip of his bourbon, “but I don’t see any enemies tonight, just a starship crew ready to forget about space for a little while.”

“It’s a little hard to forget about space when it’s all encompassing,” you sigh before you take a sip of your own drink.

“To the blackness of space and all it’s many communicable, alien, and deadly as hell diseases,” Bones grins as he lifts his glass.

“And to the doctors who do their damnedest to deal with them,” you finish before you clink your glass with his. The two of you are quiet for a moment before you ask, “Is that why Jim actively avoids MedBay?” and when Leonard fixes you with a confused look you continue, “because he’s allergic to pretty much everything?”

Leonard considers it for a moment before he shakes his head. “I don’t think so,” he sighs, “but, knowing Jim, maybe. He’s tough to pin down. He thinks he always has to be saving the world, doesn’t really think a lot about saving himself.”

“Huh,” you sigh, “I guess that’s true. He’s a good friend to have, a great captain.”

“That he is,” Leonard agrees before he adds, “doesn’t make him any less of a pain in the ass. What’d he do to rile you up this time?”

You debate on whether or not you should tell him the truth, get it all out in the open, but you decide against it. “He was just being Jim,” you laugh, “and that’s more than enough some days.”

“Ain’t that the truth.”

Conversation is easy from there, less focused on Jim or on work, more focused on life outside of the Enterprise and before you know it, the table you’d moved to in order to converse a little easier is littered with empty glasses and you’re seeing multiples.

“I think I should call it a night,” you slur after you blink and find yourself unable to get rid of the blurry haze fogging your brain, “I need sleep.”

“‘D’you leave a hypo out?” Leonard questions, his own slur a little less pronounced but still noticeable.

“Shit,” you sigh, “forgot. ’S’gonna suck tomorrow.”

“Come to mine,” he offers with a smile, “got an extra.” He laughs at your raised eyebrow and shrugs. “I like being prepared.”

“Boy scout,” you tease with a giggle. “Sure, yeah. Let’s go.”

The walk to Leonard’s accommodations is short but mildly sobering and you can feel a little bit of the fog lift from your brain as you enter the elevator. You’re wondering if this is a good idea and you decide that, no, this isn’t how you want things to go as Leonard’s hand finds your waist.

“We’re drunk,” you point out with a sigh as his fingers grip the material of your jacket. “Not how I wanna do this.”

“But you want to do this?” he questions, his eyebrow raised and his drawl more pronounced.

“Yeah,” you assure him, “yeah. Just, sober. Maybe I should go to mine.”

Leonard shakes his head and ushers you into his room. “Just sleep tonight,” he assures you, “we’ll talk in the morning.”

“Okay,” you agree, suddenly too tired to even consider getting back on the elevator and dragging yourself to your own room. “Sleep.”

Leonard passes you a t-shirt and turns away as you change. It’s quiet, a comfortable silence, as the two of you prepare yourselves as best as you can for bed. And that silence is only broken once you’re between the sheets.

“I hate silk sheets,” you whine as you allow Leonard to wrap an arm around your waist and pull you against his chest.

“Clearly you’ve never experienced silk sheets properly, then,” he hums against your hair.

“Guess not,” you return quietly. “Maybe, in the morning, you can change my mind.”

“Oh, darlin’,” he sighs contentedly, “we have a whole week of shore leave. You’re gonna love silk sheets before you can even think about gettin’ back on the Enterprise.”

**Author's Note:**

> I love Bones.


End file.
